Finding Hope
by Avalon Estel
Summary: After Aragorn and the others leave for Dunharrow, Merry tries to cheer Eowyn and learns of her sorrow. [Oneshot:COMPLETE]


Finding Hope

A/N: I can't believe this is the first Éowyn fic that I've ever written, considering I love her character so much. But I've finally done it, and here it is. If you review, please don't curse.

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Éowyn watched them leave, Aragorn and those who would accompany him on the Paths of the Dead. She longed to go with them. Why must she linger there, forced to mind a soon-to-be deserted camp, when she could be fighting battles and winning renown? After all, was she not Éowyn daughter of Éomund, the daughter of kings, the White Lady of Rohan? It seemed wrong to her. 

With a sigh, she pulled her helmet off and placed it under her arm. She entered an unoccupied tent and slumped to the ground, her face buried in her hands. She bit back a sob of rage that threatened to emerge. She would not cry. To weep was to admit defeat, or so she'd been taught. And she had no intention of surrendering.

After a while, Merry pulled aside the tent flap and looked in. He saw the Lady Éowyn with her face hidden and her long tresses falling over her shoulders and down her back. He noticed that she wore a sword at her side. She must have tried to convince Aragorn again to let her go.

"Lady?" he asked quietly.

She looked up at him, her face expressionless and blank as her hands fell into her lap. "Yes, Merry?" she answered, her eyes vacant. Despite her cool mask, Merry had seen a flash of despair in them.

"Is all well, Lady Éowyn?" he asked, walking into the tent and sitting down beside her.

"Yes, all is well," Éowyn said, a wan smile on her lips. The Halfling always managed inadvertently to amuse her. Though he was an adult among his own kind, he seemed to her a child. "Do you need something?" she asked.

"Nay," Merry said, shaking his head. "I only wished for some company."

"You found ill company," Éowyn laughed bitterly.

Merry looked at her in surprise. "I do not think so."

She gazed at him. "Honestly?" she asked.

"I think you are the greatest company in all the realms of Men," Merry said fervently.

"Is that so?" Éowyn replied. "I am not in a mood to entertain, no offense meant."

Merry stood then, eager to cheer her. "None taken. _I_ shall entertain _you_."

Éowyn eyed him skeptically. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"I know not," the Hobbit said, as if just realizing it himself. "Have you a suggestion?"

"Sit, then, and tell me of your home."

Merry obliged. "We Hobbits – "

"Hobbits?" Éowyn asked, looking confused.

"That is what we Halflings call ourselves," Merry said.

Éowyn nodded. "Please continue."

"As I was saying, we Hobbits live in the Shire, a ways northeast from here. It's nowhere near as beautiful as Rivendell, or Lothlórien, or even Edoras." He glanced up at her. "You know, I've never even dreamed of such things as those I've seen. And to think, I have the Enemy to thank for that."

"Say not such things," Éowyn scolded gently.

"I do want something," Merry said, his eyes on the ground.

"And that would be?"

"That Pippin were here, and that I was at home."

"Pippin?"

Merry could have smacked himself. "Pippin – his real name is Peregrin - is my cousin."

"He is kind, I take it?" Éowyn said, her face suddenly brighter.

"Aye," said Merry, nodding. "And funny as well."

"Where is he now?"

"In Gondor, with Gandalf the Grey," Merry said. He turned to her. "And what do you wish?"

Éowyn stared straight ahead for some time. After a long while, she said, "I wish many things, Merry."

"Such as?" he prodded.

"Such as peace and a fair kingdom for my people. For my cousin to have lived longer. For adventure. For glory. For happiness. For hope." At the last words, her voice faded to a whisper.

"Have you not hope?" Merry asked, alarmed.

"None that I can see."

"But you shall hurt yourself thinking so!" he protested.

"I feel as if I'm numb," Éowyn said.

"Lady, no matter how close the darkness presses, there is always a glimmer of hope," the Hobbit said. He took her hand. "Have hope, Lady! Have faith in yourself and in your people!"

Éowyn patted his hand. "You speak wisely for one so young," she said.

"Yet it is truth," he insisted. "Will you again find hope?"

"I know not, Merry," she said solemnly. "I know not. But I swear by everything precious to me that I shall try."

"Truly?" Merry asked.

"Truly," Éowyn replied, sincere.


End file.
